The Crystal Cosmos by Rhys Hughes

Author:Rhys Hughes
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Gloomy Seahorse Press
Published: 2015-07-30T21:00:00+00:00

Gregor Pontoon sweated as he towed the piggy on a leash. It made no effort to help itself locomote along, mainly because it was ceramic and incapable of choice. Although empty it was heavy and much taller than its owners and it caught on every protuberance and hole in the decaying road. In the strong afternoon sunlight the oily moisture on Gregor’s face held inner rainbows, but there was no gold or wishes anywhere on him, nor could there ever be. His mate, Sonja Peterson, emptied her pipe by tapping it on his head.

“What is the point of this jaunt again?” she asked.

He coughed as the ash streamed down his face. “To sink it in the lake.”

“I get it,” she answered. “A symbolic casting away of our poverty. Now there isn’t even a single cent in the thing, you imagine we can free ourselves from the everyday struggle of living by making an impetuous and romantic gesture. Poor piggy!”

“It will empower us,” he gasped.

“No it won’t, chum. It’s just a desperate little ritual which seems better to perform than simply sitting in the house and starving slowly to death in the cold winter days.”

“You’re so negative!” he whimpered.

“No I’m not. There’s no need for me to starve, I can eat you. This little trip is for your benefit alone. You’re unbelievably selfish, I don’t know why I don’t chew you right now.”

“What the heck’s that?” he spluttered.

“It looks like a fight of some kind. A man is being overpowered by a giant insect. There’s nothing we can do to help him. It’s a quick doom and that’s something to be grateful for.”

Gregor squinted but it didn’t appear to him that the insect was trying to kill the man, rather that it didn’t know its own strength. It seemed to be dancing on its victim rather than deliberately assaulting him. Not that this difference counted for much. The result was the same. The dance finished and the creature took to the sky, heading toward the alabaster pillars of the Pallid Colonnades that jutted insignificantly on the horizon like hairs on a cold forearm. As it passed low over their heads, Sonja pointed at writing emblazoned on its side. The signature of the Prefect of Police. She sighed.

“It’s a news bee, an experimental model, far bigger than it ought to be. This is another attempt by the authorities to censor the news. As the bee dances the latest bulletins into you, it simultaneously stamps you to death. You get the story only at the price of your life!”

“Sneaky,” commented Gregor.

They hurried up to the side of the victim. He was still alive but fading fast. He beckoned them closer and Gregor stooped and placed his ear against the man’s mouth. Between congealing, cooling spittle the following items could be made out:

“Two confectionery ships have collided in the middle of the Volent in a violent chocolypse... Philip Pew has polished himself completely off while cheating at the boatrace in a converted hovertrain... Utah has been flunked by its teacher state, Tutah.

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